


I am his, and he is mine

by disorderedorder



Category: Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi
Genre: F/M, Foreshadowing, Jealousy, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, TLJ spoilers (proceed with caution), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 00:39:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13065522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disorderedorder/pseuds/disorderedorder
Summary: Cross my heart, hope to dieTo my lover, I'd never lieHe said "be true", I swear I'll tryIn the end, it's him and I





	I am his, and he is mine

**Author's Note:**

> go fuck yourself, Rian Johnson.
> 
> spoilers for The Last Jedi are included in this work. proceed with caution.

You wake from a dreamless, listless sleep to a cold bed and rumpled sheets. The Supremacy is by no means a warm and welcoming temporary home, but it is your residence for the time being, and the only thing that has made it tolerable thus far is Kylo Ren. Just hours ago, he had been sleeping by your side, his arms wrapped around your waist, his hair tickling your collarbone while his head rested on your chest. Now, the mattress is cold, implying he has been gone for a while. You let out a breath, run your fingers through your hair as you swing your legs out of bed and begin to dress once more. You haven’t stayed in his room as much as he’s stayed in yours as of late, so you wonder if he’s retired to there, despite the fact that he’s been trying to not be in your way as often when it comes to sleeping situations. You won’t be surprised if you go back to your room to find him asleep in your bed. 

 

It had been years ago, even before the construction of Starkiller Base, when you had first met the Commander. He had been twenty-four, you’d been nineteen and had just left your backwater planet, where you’d been working the bar at a seedy bar frequented by First Order deserters and smugglers. The Supreme Leader had found you, sensed the Force in you, and  had offered you a chance to become something greater than what you could imagine yourself to be. Naturally, you had accepted, since you had wanted nothing more than to leave behind your old life, your abusive boss, and your all-too-curious customers that tended to ask too many questions about your personal life. The Supreme Leader promised safety, shelter, and most importantly, respect. You’d be an apprentice, a Knight, an all-powerful Force user that would demand the respect you knew you deserved. 

 

The first year under his tutelage yielded rigorous training, near-death missions, seemingly impossible tasks, and yet, you’d never felt stronger when you came out on the other side as a Knight of Ren. In an elaborate ceremony, you’d been inducted into their Order as a guardian of the Old Sith Order, the Dark Side, and a protector of your Master, Kylo Ren. From there, he had taken a personal interest in you, particularly after the Supreme Leader had proposed a partnership between the two of you. You had protested being called the Bride of Ren, as you were a knight, not a spouse, and while you did get your way, you knew better than anyone there would likely be a marital partnership in the future. But what you didn’t expect to come from it all was that you didn’t find the idea demeaning, nor undesirable. Amongst anyone in the Order currently, Kylo Ren would be your first choice, easily.

 

Kylo Ren was neither the volatile, hot-headed rival to General Hux that the officers of the Order would refer to him as, nor the child the Resistance pilots you interrogated tended to call him. To you, he was a confidante, an ally, and sometimes, you dared to call him your friend. Now, you were more or less partners. He was still your Master, and presumably, he would complete the last leg of your training once he ascended to his rightful role as Supreme Leader once Snoke was gone. You had revealed your past to him, and he had done the same, telling you of his past with what would have been a new Jedi Order. He told you of his studies on Ach-To, his uncle, the death of his father, and the way the first Knights came to be. It was an excessive amount of information to absorb, but none of it bored you. If anything, it made you more curious of the man he had been before becoming the Master of the Knights of Ren. It seemed to you that if it weren’t for the Supreme Leader, he could have been fighting on the wrong side.

 

In the days following the destruction of Starkiller Base, you had escaped on the Finalizer, joined soon after by General Hux, with Kylo Ren in tow, in a transporter. Many of the officers and troopers on Starkiller had not made it off the base before it had imploded, but there was still a great many members of the Order to take their places. The rest of the Knights had not been there to witness the Order’s loss; they had been off on another mission, on a search for the old Sith texts, which were rumored to be hidden in Vader’s palace on Mustafar. You had wanted to accompany them, but you’d been ordered by Supreme Leader Snoke to stay behind, for the sake of Kylo Ren and to ensure that he would stay on-mission. 

 

You’d discovered your bond with Kylo some years ago, from a pull in the Force that yielded visions akin to lucid dreams. There was always a constant tugging in your chest, as though someone were always pulling at your heart, and it grew stronger when Kylo Ren wished to speak to you. Time and movement seemed to cease around you in your visions, and your surroundings changed entirely, so the two of you seemed to be on your own plane of existence. Even when he wasn’t actively trying to summon you, you could feel his thoughts, you could sense his feelings, and you could even feel the conflict and the insecurity in his heart as though it was your own. But with the knowledge that you could feel what he could, you knew he could feel what you did, as well. 

 

To guard your emotions and feelings from him was not only difficult, but it was dangerous. He was more powerful than you were, and while he never forced you to tell him anything, he had ways to know without having to make you give it up. All your insecurities were no longer just your own, and you could hear him speaking to you in your mind off and on, telling you to stop worrying about such benign things and to focus on your training, your future, and the wellbeing of the Order. He never asked about your thoughts when it came to him, to which you were grateful. You knew you often crossed his mind, and when you were around him, you noticed his pupils dilating, his breath getting heavier. 

 

Out of courtesy, you never mentioned it, but you were curious. Thankfully, he never pushed you to tell him, and instead, let you take out your feelings for him physically, not verbally. It was almost too easy for you to lose yourself in him when you were alone, and it scared you when you thought about it too much. Neither of you were each other’s firsts, but it mattered little to you when you disregarded your first time as disappointing and unfulfilling. You hardly remembered that first time, other than a party on your home planet and too much stolen alcohol from parents’ liquor cabinets. Between you and Kylo, it was intense, passionate, and you felt the Force more during those times more than any time else. 

 

There were times when it only happened in your visions, when you needed release, a sense of reassurance, and he offered an alternative: intimacy in visions, when the time and place for the two of you was otherwise inconvenient. Usually, it happened on missions, when your housing was too crowded and too close for the two of you. You knew that the Supreme Leader was not oblivious to your relations, but if he opposed it, he never spoke a word about it, and neither of you had been punished, to which you were grateful. More often than not, you felt closer to Kylo than you did to anyone else, even the rest of the Knights. 

 

Now, as you assess the room from earlier, it all comes back to you in a rush. The shaking of the cabinets, the tearing of fabric, teeth on skin, heat and fire and nails digging into each others’ flesh as he told you to  _ let go, feel the Force.  _ The lights flicker on and off, some of the bulbs burned out and shattered. His belongings are strewn across the floor, his many layers of clothing lay in piles in corners, his boots kicked lazily under the bed. But despite all signs of his residence, Kylo Ren is nowhere to be found. You pull a blanket from the foot of the bed, wrapping yourself in it as you stand, cringing at the cold floor. The door to the bathroom is open, and you wonder if it would be appropriate to shower off before collecting your things and returning to your own quarters. 

 

As many times before, however, your curiosity wins over as you hear Kylo speaking from around the corner, from the other part of his room. You think for a moment that he might be talking to himself, until you hear him pause, as though he’s waiting for another person to finish speaking. You press yourself against the wall dividing the two of you, just listening.

 

“You’re not alone,” you hear him say. You’re confused, until you hear another voice, that of another woman. 

 

“Neither are you.” 

 

You close your eyes, feeling the white-hot heat searing through your chest as your dinner threatens to come back up. You dig your nails into your palms as your breath quickens, the feelings of betrayal, of feeling used, of pure hate surge through you faster than the Starkiller cannon. You bite the side of your cheek so hard, your mouth is soon filled with the taste of blood, your tongue prodding at the ragged skin. You suck in a breath through your teeth, sucking back blood and spit and every nasty word you know in every language you memorized in your studies. 

 

For a moment, you think of collecting yourself, walking out calmly, as if you heard nothing, leaving him to only realize you overheard. But instinct takes over, and your kick lands square in the middle of the dresser to your left. The items on its surface topple over, some falling to the floor as you take the drawer handles in both hands and pull, throwing it to the ground with so much force the drawer breaks in three pieces. The Force hums within you, your vision blurs, and you reach your hand out to the mirror, watching it shatter as you close your hand into a fist with a growl. With bared teeth, you sweep the remaining items off the surface of the dresser to the floor. 

 

You’re acutely aware of another presence in the room with you now, but your mind is hardly on them as you rip the sheets from the bed, your thoughts completely clouded with raw power, and a moment later, there’s a loud cracking noise as the dresser itself cracks down the middle. The scream of frustration that rips through your chest is ugly and loud, and you close your eyes as you feel the tears forming. Your arms are still outstretched, hands balled into fists as you try to crush whatever your mind has taken ahold of now. You choke out a sob, followed by another, as you feel a pair of hands take your wrists and pull your arms back down and in your mind, his voice speaks, as kind as you’ve ever heard from him.

 

_ “Stop.” _

 

“GET OFF ME,” you yell, trying to pull out of his grasp. “YOU LIAR, YOU USED ME, YOU—”

 

_ “Breathe. And let me explain.”  _

 

“WHAT IS THERE TO EXPLAIN? THERE IS NOTHING, YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE, YOU USED ME AND NOW YOU PLAN TO DUMP ME, I TOLD YOU EVERYTHING!” you scream, and then you feel the anger pulling away, a cold, still calm washing over you that makes you shiver. 

 

Your tears come faster now, and you feel only angrier that you only feel calm, and that he’s the one forcing you to rationalize when it’s the last thing you want to do. But when you open your eyes, you’re in the vision, still drenched in a cold sweat, wrapped in your blanket, clutched to your chest and wrapped around you like a towel. 

 

“Stop doing this,” you say, and it’s all you can say, what with your current emotional state. You’re choking back tears still, and you feel like if you move, you’ll lash out again. 

 

“It’s not what it seems,” Kylo says, and you hate how calm and unaffected he is, like your anger doesn’t seem important to him. “Let me explain.” 

 

“What is there to explain?” you protest angrily. “Who was she, why were you speaking to her? Was it a vision? Don’t tell me it was, you don’t have other bonds. I’d know if you did.” 

 

“It is,” he says, and you shake your head, refusing to look him in the eye as he continues. “You’re not the only one with a bond to me. But yours is the one I care about.”

 

“It didn’t seem that way,” you snap. “The bed was  _ cold _ . How long were you gone?”

 

“Not as long as you think. You need to listen.”    
  


“No,  _ you  _ need to listen, Kylo. You don’t need to read my mind to know how I feel, how it looks, how much I want to leave you right now.  _ What was that? _ ”

 

He’s silent for a long few minutes, and the suspense might as well be the death of you. When you feel him pull you into his arms, you struggle, trying to pull away, until he starts petting your hair. You start shaking, your tears flowing freely as you beg incoherently for answers. You press your hands against his chest, hitting him weakly, but you might as well be trying to hit a solid wall.

 

“Who was it?” you ask, the first sentence you can say without getting choked up again. 

 

“No one. She’s no one, she’ll never be anyone.”

 

“What was it about?” 

 

“I had to lie. She wants answers I don’t have, but she thinks I do. So I lied.” 

 

“And me?”   
  
“Little One, I’m not forgetting you. I never did, and I never will.”   
  


His nickname for you pulls you back, just enough for you to relax. You can’t say you’re totally convinced, but you feel reassured enough for the vision to slip away to reveal his ruined room. A rush of guilt washes over you briefly before you lean your head against his chest as he assesses just how much damage you did. 

 

“We can sleep in my room,” you say, kicking a stray bottle across the floor. “I think I destroyed everything but the walls.”    
  


Originally, you thought it was just the dresser you had destroyed, but in your anger, you had snapped the structure beams of the bed, the table legs, and the dresser was little more than drawers and a broken mirror. Combined with the already-ruined clothing on the floor, the room looked as though it had been raided by smugglers. 

 

“We should,” Kylo agrees, picking up a few pieces of his clothing. “I’ll send for a repair droid in the morning.” 

 

You expect him to redress himself, given he’s only in what he wears to bed, but instead, he gives you his clothes, helping you dress before wrapping the blanket around you again. You can’t force a smile yet, but you feel Kylo’s hand in your hair again, soothing you further as he draws you close to his side, steering you out of the ruined room. The halls of the Supremacy are empty, save for the mouse droids on their maintenance runs. It’s comforting to know you’re alone, so no one is around to talk. That, you’ve learned, is one of your least favorite parts of the Order itself—the gossip. You never expected such a dignified military organization to be so bored that they resorted to spreading outlandish rumors about its commanding forces, but you supposed they had to pass time somehow. 

 

“You’re still worried,” Kylo says as he hails the elevator. “Why?”   
  
“You know exactly why,” you snap, but it comes out defeated and weak. The elevator doors open, and Kylo just pulls you inside, letting you lean on him for support as he wraps his arms around you, rests his chin on your head. You feel like a baby bird, wrapped in its mother’s wings as Kylo holds you. He’s much taller than you are, and nearly twice as broad, and you can feel the strands of his overgrown hair tickling your cheek. 

 

“The bond is nowhere near as strong as ours,” he says. “There is no void, there are no fleeting thoughts back and forth. I can see you clearly, no matter where you are in the galaxy. I can see your surroundings, I can feel your thoughts, I can feel every emotion you do. There is a wall with her. There is little I can do in comparison.”

 

“But why did you leave me?” you whisper. “Why did I wake to an empty bed and cold sheets?”   
  
“I couldn’t sleep.”    
  
“You should have woken me,” you say matter-of-factly, as the doors open. 

 

Kylo just stoops, gathers you in his arms before picking you up, as careful as a groom might his bride, and carries you out of the elevator and into the hall of the very top level of the ship, where your room is. He’d been offered a room on the same level, of course, as he was the Supreme Leader’s other apprentice, but he had refused, opting for a room closer to the command bridge. That had left you with the biggest, most lavish room on the ship save for the throne room. It’s a short walk to your room, and you’re about to tell Kylo the authorization code when the light flashes green and the doors slide open. 

 

“I’ve been up here enough times that you don’t have to tell me, you know,” he says, and you just rest your head on his shoulder as he carries you inside. The room is vast and open, decorated lavishly, with old relics of the Empire, silk tapestries from Naboo, furniture from Coruscant, food and wine from Corellia. You doubt even General Hux has a room as luxurious, though you assume it can’t be far behind.

 

He lays you carefully in your bed, one that’s more than big enough for the both of you, and then climbs in after you, curling up behind you and nuzzling the back of your neck. He’s warm and solid against you, a steady presence in your otherwise fragile mental state of mind. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry. Come back to me, Little One, please.”   


His hands trace your fingers delicately, the roughness of his fingers a stark contrast to your smooth skin. Between the two of you, he was the muscle, the brute force, you were the pretty face, the mastermind. At formal functions, there were dignitaries, allies of the Order that couldn’t help but comment on it, and while you had hated it at first, Kylo had slipped into his given role, albeit jokingly, as he teased you about having to flirt with senators twice your age to secure funds for the Order, and how he would have to step in before they got too close. 

 

“I know you’re sorry,” you say, rolling over to face him, and he raises his hand to meet your cheek, stroking gently. “I just can’t lose you. One half can’t be without the other.”

 

“You just say that because you know you’re my better half,” Kylo says teasingly, and in spite of yourself, you laugh. He leans in, his lips soft and plush  against your own as he kisses you, one of his hands cupping your cheek, the other pushing the hem of your shirt to your waist. 

 

“Make me understand all of this, Kylo,” you say, between kisses. “What does Snoke want?”

 

“I wish I knew,” he says, with a nip at your bottom lip. “I’m not powerful enough to know what his motives are. I can’t tell what he wants from you, nor from me.”    
  


“Does he want me gone?” 

 

“No. And I would never let him.”

 

You pause as Kylo pulls you on top of him, letting you curl on top of him as he kisses you. “Would you kill him for me, if I were to ask?”

 

You expect him to hesitate, to brush you off, but instead, his answer is immediate. “Yes, I would.”   
  
“Is that a promise?”   
  
“When have I ever lied to you?” he asks, and he threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you ever closer to him. His hands wander, pulling at your shirt again, finding the clasp of your bra as he adjusts you in his lap. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he eases your shirt off, tossing it aside as he kisses you again, letting you pull at his clothes, too. “I can end this, Little One. For us.”

 

“Not tonight,” you reply, breaking your kiss as you pull his shirt off and toss it to the ground. You take a moment to run your fingers over his chest, over the scars from his former duels, the burns permanently seared into his skin, every single mole that dots his skin like an inverted galaxy. 

 

You run your fingers over the scar that bisects his face, watching the way his eyelashes flutter when you do. His lack of rest is evident, but it makes him no less beautiful to you. Before, he confessed to you that he his his face not only to hide his identity, but to hide his face from ridicule, but around you, he had eventually stopped wearing it when he learned how you saw him. 

 

“I think they’ve got it wrong,” you say, leaning in to kiss his scar, peppering kisses all down his jaw and neck. “I think you’re the looks, and I’m the brute force.” 

 

He laughs, and you relish in the rare, truly happy sound that it is. “You just say that to make me feel better about myself.” 

 

“But I wouldn’t lie to you.” You climb off his lap to pull at the clasp of his pants, and Kylo just smirks, rolling the two of you so he’s caging you in with his arms, his thighs on either side of yours. He unfastens his pants himself, kicking them to the floor and not wasting a second to kiss you again, pressing his entire body against you. 

 

“It’s been too long,” he murmurs, his fingers finding the clasps of your bra once more and unfastening it in one fluid motion, pulling it off and tossing it to the floor a moment later. “Too long since I’ve had you.” 

 

Kylo purrs, a soothing sound, that quickly turns to a growl as he kisses you again, his hands sliding down your sides, his thumbs hooking into your panties and easing them off. He makes it to your knees, before you finish the job for him. He purrs again as he begins to kiss down your body, his kisses hot and wet and punctuated every so often with bites. He kisses your sternum, your breasts, your stomach, and when he reaches your thighs, he bites you again, just enough to get your attention. You whine, letting go of the sheets clenched in your fists to put your hands in his hair and pull, trying to make him go faster. 

 

“Be patient, Little One,” he growls, biting your inner thigh again. “I want to savor this.”

 

He kisses everywhere that makes you shiver, but not your cunt, not yet. You pull at his hair, a silent plea for him to please, just eat you already, but he ignores you for a good minute to just worship your thighs. You’re about to beg him to just get on with it when you feel the flat of his tongue press against your cunt, just tasting you. You whine, high and desperate, as he licks you, slides his tongue in you before he noses at your clit, introduces his fingers alongside his tongue. You clench around his fingers as he curls them inside you, his growls going straight to your core. 

 

“Kylo, please, I need you, I can’t wait anymore, please…” you trail off when he slides a third finger inside you, his lips wrapping around your clit as he kisses teasingly, his tongue a slow, torturous drag against your cunt. 

 

“You’re the  _ only  _ one I want,” he growls. “Anyone else is irrelevant. And I’m yours, Little One.” 

 

He sucks your clit hard, curls his fingers, determined to make you cum before he even gets inside you. Your grip tightens in his hair as you feel your orgasm building, and Kylo snarls, the vibrations right against you as you cum, your entire body going tense before you cry out, and you go limp in his arms as he continues to eat you, his tongue sliding back inside you to taste you again, his lips feeling like sin against you. 

 

“Stop teasing,” you whine, pulling at his hair again, and he finally comes back up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. You feel him smile, feeling, for once, totally powerless as he kisses you. His hands find yours, untangle your fingers from his hair as he pulls them to the waistband of his underwear. 

 

“I don’t deserve you,” he purrs as you pull them off, and the moment they’re at his thighs, you wrap your hand around his cock, your fingers not even meeting when you try. You stroke him once, twice, before you feel his hand around yours, encouraging you to go faster. 

 

“Who’s the tease now?” he growls, and he controls your strokes as you admire the way he looks in the moment of pure lust. 

 

“Get these off,” you whisper, pulling at his waistband again, snapping it against his thigh, and Kylo obeys, letting go of your hand and forcing you to let go, too, to kick them to the floor. But the moment he comes back to you, he pulls you into his lap, letting you wrap your legs around his waist as he lowers you onto his cock. 

 

His snarl turns into a low purr as he feels your cunt around his cock, and you can only whimper as he stretches you, forces you apart around him. Every time you’ve fucked, you’ve always felt like he’s almost too big for you, and this time is no exception. He presses further into you, and once you’re sitting flush with his hips, you’re out of breath, feeling as though his cock has pushed everything else out of the way. He rolls his hips into yours, growling when he feels you clench, and he presses his forehead against yours, his lps only a quarter inch from yours. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he pants. His hands are on your back, sliding down to your waist, then your hips, then your thighs, the heat from his palms almost searing hot. “I’m sorry, forgive me, Little One.” 

 

You lean in and kiss him as you ride him, let him guide you, control the pace. “I love you,” you say against his lips. “I forgive you, I love you, Kylo, I need...I need…” 

 

You feel his hand at your cunt, his fingers rubbing your clit, urging your orgasm closer, faster. Your breaths come faster as you feel it building, a coil in your chest, as you rest your head on his shoulder, and as you feel his hips thrusting faster, his fingers rubbing you harder, you cum hard, biting down on his shoulder, tasting the saltiness of his skin against your tongue as you soak his cock, allowing him to chase his own pleasure, to lose himself further in you.

 

“Look at me,” he says, and you obey, lifting your head and pressing your forehead to his as his fingers tangle in your hair. “This is what you do to me, and no one else could do the same. I’m yours, always remember that.” 

 

His eyes close as he chases his own orgasm, his lips meeting yours again as you feel him twitch inside you, his thrusts, slowing, and you’re flooded with a warmth as he cums, grinding against you, trying to get deeper. His teeth catch your lower lip, tugging gently, as his hands untangle from your messy hair. You’re wrapped in his arms, pressed firmly to his chest as he holds you, catching his breath. 

 

“I love you,” he says quietly. “I love you like I’ve loved no one else, and I can promise that that will never change, Little One.” 

 

You pull back just enough to look at him, to see the sincerity in his dark eyes, the blush in his cheeks, the way his lower lip trembles as he waits for you to speak.

 

“I’ve always loved you, Kylo,” you say. “But I’m sure you didn’t have to hear me say it to know.”   
  
He laughs gently, lifting you off his cock carefully and tucking you in beside him as he curls around you as you settle into his arms, resting your head on his chest so he can pet your hair. Together, you bask in your afterglow, a comfortable, soothing warmth emanating off him as your fatigue finally catches up to you and hits you all at once. 

 

“Supreme Leader, then,” you murmur, and Kylo hums questioningly. You look up at him, brush your fingertips across his lips. “You’d kill Snoke, then, and you’d become Supreme Leader.”

 

“If you so wish,” he purrs, without opening his eyes. “Then yes.”

 

You smile, nuzzling his chest as he tucks the blankets around you more, dipping his head to bury his face in your hair. 

 

“Supreme Leader Ren,” you say dreamily. “It has a nice ring to it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> if you've made it this far, thank you for sticking around! I hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, please leave me a comment or a kudo! or, come chat with me on Tumblr [here](http://bensolosren.tumblr.com/)! I'm informally dedicating this to my group chat on discord, because you guys are the absolute best.


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